


Cold Brass

by Hoardinghordofpost



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Body Image, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Weird Power Dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-07-20 06:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16131641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoardinghordofpost/pseuds/Hoardinghordofpost
Summary: Eight pieces about Watcher and High Harbinger Vatnir. It will be my greatest pleasure and pride to provide You with entertainment.





	1. Sail

**Author's Note:**

> Used Polish punctuation rules in dialogues.

-Can I pet your hair?  
Vatnir almost choked, when he heard the question. Trying to cover that up as his usual cough, he looked at the asking one.  
Brenice Tylhe, Watcher of Caed Nua, Herold of Berath and Hound of Eothas, was casually sitting next to him. With one hand supporting her head and second on her mug of ale. Eyes squinted in the way, that made her face look kinda bored. Messy braid under violet and yellow scarf worn in Principi way.  
Therefore, it wasn't some extremely desperate or utterly drunk harlot that asked that question. Or, Rymrgand forbid, one of his Harbingers of whatever gender.  
-Well... I... Uh...- What he supposed to say on that?  
-I don't know, how glamfellen deal with this kind of things – she waved one of her fingers as she have spoken – but on Plains we say "yes", when we agree, and "no", when we don't.  
-I think you... Can? - Priest hunched a little, when women moved toward him. One, her biceps was wider than his thigh. Second, harming captain of the ship with his horns would be the worst.  
-I not gonna rip your head from your neck, yeah? - She gently moved her hand, touching him in the same manner like one of her (too) many cats. Warmth on his scalp started to feel soothing. Tension went away from his shoulders bit after bit. Also her smell was quite nice.  
Vatnir sighed and opened slowly his set of eyes. Warrior was still petting him with focused look on her face.  
-I hope that Eder won't have the same idea – he joked.  
-Oh – she had woken up from her tiny trans and smiled at him. - I also hope that. I don't like competition.  
What that suppose to mean?

Explanation was provided some time later. In result High Harbinger almost hit the wall with his horns in shock.  
-You want to do WHAT with me?  
-Did I make it sound that awful? - Natlan put head in her palm. She took deep breath and started to talk again. - Look, I don't gonna kick you from The Defiant for declining. Don't think so low of me.  
The animancers that he met on his way compered their thinking process to working cogs. Now he was feeling exactly that in his head – cogs, white-hot and ripping brain mass into pieces.  
Actually, Watcher looked almost equally embarrassed, even in shining full plate. Her cheeks was red and with every heartbeat that color went lower and lower down her neck. She crossed her arms and shifted in slightly defensive pose.  
-I... I must to think about it. Yes. That is...  
-Of course – Duskspeaker turned around on her heel. - Please, do tell me, when you will finish.

Jumping to the ocean was still an option. He didn't knock on the door yet. There was nobody from the crew to tell her later, that he stood frozen in place like icicle for several minutes. Now only cough could give him up.  
Of course he started to cough.  
Brenice opened door and saw nothing. Then she looked down and spotted Vatnir almost crouched on the ship's desks.  
-Even if you came to say no, at least come inside,so I can give you something to drink – Herald lifted him up like a sack of rice.  
_Great start, Vatnir_ , he thought joyless.  
-Actually I have the second answer – she tensed up for short moment, when she heard that. Then she visibly relaxed during pouring the cup for him.  
-Remember, you are obliged to nothing. We can stop anytime, at any moment. And do tell me, when something's wrong, I kinda dense in that matter – she said while giving him a drink.  
Godlike gladly accepted the cup. He looked at her while drinking. The women was wearing civilian clothes in Dyrwood fashion, nothing overly fancy. On second side, it could easily go under armor in abrupt situation. Or on the floor.  
Priest clicked his tongue and put mug aside. He took Duskspeaker's hand in his own and gently squeezed.  
-Thank you for head start. And for having me.

They sat on fur she used as rug beside her bed. Glamfellen internally wept over such waste. Her hand wandered into his hair in similar fashion like before. Man closed his eyes and lined in into the warm, calloused palm. He took down his gloves and tossed it aside.  
Warrior's cheek, marred with fading and newer scars, was hot like Magran's fire itself. One didn't have to put much pressure to feel veins quickly pumping blood. She was in her fighter prime, vibrant, strong, healthy.  
_What am I even doing here?_  
He could not ponder about it, when bolt from bitten ear tip went through his body. Her eyes gleamed with cockiness. In moment of bravery priest caught Herald's head in both his hands and bite her back in her lower lip. When she opened mouth, surprised, he sticked in his tongue, before she could acknowledge the weirdness of kissing man without lips.  
Salvia mixing, teeth clicking, burning, burning, burning. It was a while, before he felt her tugging on bandages, that kept mask in place. Instantly he moved back and caught her second hand on its way toward lower edge of iron plate.  
-I .. uh... I prefer you don't... Please – he exclaimed, interrupted by nervous cough.  
She nodded. Her free hand moved down on godlike's neck. With second she started to unbutton her shirt. His hands on their own went to her naked waist, thumbs circling on her midriff.  
_Weird. How she even breathe with so tight breast-band? It's almost wounding her skin._  
-Hey, gonna help me with that? - Duskspeaker pointed on his robes.  
_At least I had kissed her_ – he thought during fight with material. _She'll not like, what she gonna to see._  
Watcher was too battle hardened for loud, visible reaction – and Vatnir would rather jump again into the White Void than look up on her face in that moment. Time passed and he still didn't heard anything – no excuses, gasps, attempts to draw back.  
Instead godlike felt Brenice's hands wandering upon his chest and warm breath on his ear.  
-Will it hurt you, if I touch your belly? - He had never imagined, that such question would make him shiver a little.  
-Uh... No. Not at all – he exclaimed and sighed, his head jerked back, when she squeezed both of his nipples in answer.  
Even the most fanatical Harbingers have faltered in face of giant field of necrosis, that was his stomach. That sight was mostly not needed anyway – most glamfellen would be seen naked only in two occasions: during delivery and after being killed and robbed. Vatnir watched Duskspeaker's movements, as he almost didn't feel any of her featherweight touches. His breaths started to get deeper.  
The intense pain took him by surprise.  
Priest jumped in place with short scream, that immediately transformed into long, aggressive fit of cough. It almost bend him in half, horns touching rug.  
-Fuck! Vatnir, I'm sorry! I completly didn't think! - It was first time, when he heard so much panic in this women voice. Still coughing, man moved blindly his arm toward speaking one and squizzed found knee in the way he considered reassuring.  
-I'm ... gonna be fine... Give me time – he managed to spit out in between.  
Brenice was kneeling next to him, concerned and visibly without idea, how to help him. In the end she gave him handkerchief, when he regained his breath. After using it and tossing it aside he crawled toward Watcher. Carefully, not to harm her with horns, godlike embraced her and put his face between her breasts. Duskspeaker hugged him back.  
-Note for future: no poking under the ribs – she joked, slowly petting his shoulders and spine. Vatnir squizzed her in answer; one of his hand travelled onto her breast-band. With ear pressed to women's chest he could hear a quickening in her heartbeat. Her entire body moved from deep breath she took, when he applied more pressure. Glamfellen shifted slightly and started to lick skin irritated by material.  
Natlan put her back against the bedframe, pulling him with her, between her long, muscled legs. More relaxed, she combed his hair with her fingers and touched skin in places, where horns protruded. In that time his tongue managed to get under the cloth. There was something intoxicating in taste of her sweat: fresh, untouched by fever and disease.  
-You showed me yours, I show you mine – she purred after short while. He moved aside, when she took both her hands behind her back. Priest felt slight pang in his heart, when she has done that.  
The bandage left her skin and he had at last understood. Her breasts was mangled, deformed by battle wounds. Scars on the left showed, that Eora is still full of fools who think, that heart is under the tit. _Well, rather was_. Lack of tissue in right one suggested hit from morgenstern or bite from something with long jaw.  
-I have been once even more reckless than now – she winked. - I know, totally impossible, yeah?  
Women tried to cover her embarrassment with talking, but even with touch of Rymrgand he wouldn't become High Harbinger without talent to read others. That's why the crawled toward her on his knees, took her nipple into mouth and started to lick it like his life depended on it. Vatnir focused on taste and sound of her sighs, when he massaged both scarred and healthy parts of her bosom. She took him closer with her legs, arms loosely around his neck. Brenice put her head on mattress and purred low.  
Soon after he changed the target of his ministrations onto second tit, glamfellen lost contact with the rug and found himself laying on the bedsheets, grinning Watcher over him. The sight of her almost tearing down his pants, her passion, moved something inside the priest. And in other places too.  
-I have proposition: I will finish you up now for first time after all this teasing, and then second time will be in me. Do you like this plan? - She laughed, when he in the same time tried to cling into her, take down his smallcloth and bite her down the neck. - I guess that mean yes. I thought there is word for that in Ordhjóma.  
Low whining was the only answer for that. All three of his eyes was almost full of tears from need. To find release, to feel warmth, to die a little. He caught her hand and led it between his legs. When she firmly took a grip upon his member, the thoughts had left him and he wailed silently.  
Vatnir grabbed her like a child its mother and licked her collarbone. She looked down with interest. Even that part of him wasn't left untouched by Rymrgand. Just inch before the tip angle abruptly changed, making penis similar to the auroch's horn.  
-Found the seventh one – Brenice joked, moving hand up and down. He dug his nails deeper into the skin on her back, so close and so far in the same time. Godlike fought blindly with women's breeches. Panting, sweating, in fever like no other he experienced, ignoring the sound of bedsheets ripped into pieces by his horns.  
Their tongues clashed again. Women speeded up her movements. With free arm she put his leg around her waist, keeping him in place. Man's head hanged outside the bed, tips of his growths touching fur below.  
And then there was no cold, no pain, no expectations, just for few heartbeats.

Vatnir put his head back on the mattress. Still panting, he moved closer to Brenice and licked gratefully her marred cheek. Probably he was looking right now like one of her waifish, undernourished pupils from every ditch on Eora. As if he cared.  
-Tickles – Natlan giggled. She was idly spreading his seed through hills and valleys of dead flesh.Pale hand wandered from back of her skull to her waist, then between her legs, still in pants.  
-You remember? How nice of you – warrior purred. Man applied more pressure into his touch, hoping for help with her clothes. With sly smile she started to take it down, wiggling her hips in exaggerated manner.  
Godlike sat on his heels to not get in her way. After she has thrown flamboyantly all useless material on the floor he scooted closer and brushed her lips with his fingers. They were tenderly, encouragingly bitten and licked. He moved them down, followed by women's dark gaze.  
Glamfellen straddled her thigh in such way, that his knee pushed apart Watcher's legs, while she layed lazily like one of Onekaza deadly cats, caressing outline of his skinny body. Her strength, will to live radiated from under her skin which he was touching with his fingertips, slowly moving toward her clef.  
Duskspeaker could be as much cocky as she liked, but her lower lips were so moist and soften, that they almost sucked his fingers in without any pressure. Folds, wet and swollen, were no cover for clit and entrance. Watchful for any sound of discontent, he started to familiarize himself with texture, warmth and responds on this particular part of Brenice's body.  
Harbinger eagerly memorized the most soft point on her inside walls. Touched, it made Herald's hips to buck. His nose was to stuffed to feel her smell, but her taste... Circling the bud with other's hand thumb he vigorously lapped on women's juices in his palm. It was like first sip of the finest rymsjódda after long march in blizzard.  
Movement under him made priest open his too many eyes. First thing he saw was upper half of her mauled breast, only inch away from the mask. Brenice lifted herself to the knees, with godlike still on her thigh. With one swift push by buttocks she got him even closer to her.  
-High Harbinger, oh, High Harbinger – she said in singing voice directly to his ear. The teeth and tongue followed after that. In warrior's embrace, warm and protective, he went back to pleasing her, ignoring pangs of pain from sores and ulcers, that opened during their mutual ministrations. Smaller and more lithe than her, glamfellen basked in radiant heat coming from Natlan's brass skin.  
Watcher began to shift. It took him a while to understand, that she was trying to find a way to take him into her womb while they both would be still kneeling.  
-Wait! Please – Vatnir caught women by her arm. - It will be easier, if you lay down, really. I'm sorry – he almost curled up while saying that. _Another betrayal from this wrecked shell._  
Brenice rolled her eyes, but she did put her back down on the matress. Duskspeaker had her interest piqued, when he shuffled pillow under her lower back. After that godlike squeezed Herald's hand lightly and smiled apologetically. Kneeling between women's bend legs, he kept circling her clit with his left hand's thumb. With right one priest maneuvered his penis to align with entrance. Because of the deformity entering was two-step process for the tip and part behind the bend.  
Brenice didn't seem to mind that.  
His member was greeted with overhelming heat and the most delicious texture. Vatnir clenched his teeth to keep himself focused. The stark contrast between both of them became even more arousing. Who could be more different from him than this battle-worn beauty? Brass skin covering muscles, health, step and eyes full of confidence, charisma of the person, who knows and takes, what she want, perceptiveness and understanding masked with lazy, sly smile – versus his pain-ridden, half-rotten vessel, that looked like a ditched corpse, everlasting self-doubt fueled by what was forced upon him in the Land, wandering from one fruitless effort to another in waiting for the end or at least numbness.  
And yet he were here – between legs of this world-changing women, his pushes accepted and wanted, his fingers teasing her clit praised. In his small, caught up heart sparked a little bit of pride, more and more so with Duskspeaker little whines and shivers. She got on her elbows and looked on place of their joining with fascination, cheekbones dusted with red tint.  
-I like your dirty trick with the tip, you... Fuck! - Her head jerked violently, when he brushed his member against soft place on her inner walls, which he had found previously. Vatnir clenched jaws even harder, free hand almost ripping bedsheets. The way Brenice moved was changing – that gave him hope, that she would come soon. Just a little bit.  
What he didn't expect was that she would pick him up just with her legs. Warrior brought him so close to her, that godlike could only support himself on one elbow and tips of his frostbitten toes. She had almost made him suffocate with her full of tongue kiss. With one hand splashed on his butt and non-stop circling hips women took everything she needed.  
The same moment priest felt shiver of her insides, the pain of skin torn apart almost made him scream. Duskspeaker's nails plowed through tissue on his back like sharp knives, leaving only blood and puss from ruptures in their wake. Harbinger wailed into captain's mouth while failing to pull back from her in fit of sheer flight instinct. She could easily break his hips with her tights, if she had only applied just a little more force.  
And just like that Brenice went limp.  
Steaming with sweat, hot in touch like glowing ember, strangely silent.  
Even with his member still inside her Vatnir had to get rest. He put his head between Herald's breasts, while laying on her. His hand still wet with fluids closed around one of them.  
-I fucked up – said Brenice in matter-of-fact tone. - If you want to run off, I would only ask for not screaming too loudly.  
Instead of answering glamfellen just embraced her tighter. After some time of laying in stillness and silence he felt women's fingers gently combing his hair. Waves of warm and calm went down his spine. After expectorating he looked Natlan into eyes.  
-With all due respect, Duskspeaker, but I survived in White that Wends. Polar bear you are not.  
-Cause I'm already lioness – she joked happily.

He allowed himself to move some time later. It was a bit formality and a bit catching of a rare occasion. But Herald's kisses were still sweet and wet, her relaxed body warm and inviting. Being here, frail and defenseless in comparison to her, in some weird sense was comforting. For someone on outside he probably looked like feasting ivory spinner – but gods damn it all.  
His pace was egoistic. Muscles of slim hips hurt from unusual effort, but upcoming satisfaction seemed too sweet to slow down. Triple eyes of godlike opened and closed up on their own volition.  
Duskspeaker caught him by one of the horns.  
-Look at me while coming – she demanded. Few heartbeats later he didn't remember his own name.

Captain didn't let him go until she haven't patch up all his wounds. With healing potion from her personal supplies in his hand, Vatnir walked down corridor. At last there was some use of lacking the lips – nobody on the deck could see wide, stupid smile on his face.


	2. Burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's bit short, but also a bit fluffy. Still Polish rules of dialogue punctuation.

-Now, tell me: you just speeded through that trapped floor, didn't you?  
-We managed to deactivate some of traps first - Brenice mumbled from between sheets.  
Vatnir sighted, coughed, then clicked his tongue. The sheer extend of Duskspeaker's injuries after her visit to the sandswept ruins had put her case far from Shieldsister Daelia abilities.  
-First things first – he decided after short pondering. - Let's start with antidote. Some healing potions, so you won't bleed out from internal wounds while I perform further examination.  
Weak smile from bed-ridden:  
-I leave myself in your experienced hands, o High Harbinger.  
Only powerful sneeze protected her from priest's angry gaze. Probably. 

After setting bones and patching up open wounds, what almost ended with few broken ribs of his own from Watcher's kicks, he decided to end this day by spreading lotion on Duskspeaker burns. Easy, could help her fall asleep and good moment for second examination.  
Being what he was, it was only logical to keep healthy and alive the single person standing between him and being thrown into the sea for hygienic reason by the crew. Upsetting or irritating such individual was also out of question. So when he felt growing excitement, he immediately ceased his movements and crossed arms.  
Maybe something in setting was at fault. The captain's quarters were warmed up and scented with lemons, making air within heavy and moist. Darkness behind portholes and soft lights on the inside created impression of intimacy, being cut out from outside world.  
Or maybe it was their positions. In the end he was straddling half-naked women. Beautiful women, that once called him into her bed – and strong enough to rip his arms off even in her current state.  
Clammed up, brow furrowed, eyes closed, nails dug deep into the arms skin. In his mind he pleaded with, whined and screamed on his member to get back to flaccid state. Cock completely ignored him.  
Slight movement under him hasn't help.  
-Vatnir? What's wrong? - His patient got onto her elbows and looked at him over her arm.  
-Oh – he started. - I was just.. uh... thinking about letting the lesser burns to breath. You will have to stay on your stomach.  
For few heartbeats Watcher has looked at him with blank eyes. Her lips caught man's attention, making him harder and more embarrassed. Then it started to curve into sly smile.  
-High harbinger - she cooed with exaggerated Ixamilt accent – have my wounds exited you? That would explain your interest in my breasts.  
How iron mask didn't melt down from heat of his cheeks?  
-Well, uh, you are attractive... - Vatnir sharply inhaled and coughed, when she rolled her hips under him.  
-I must to ask you – Brenice continued unfazed – for more internal examination. - Her hand moved up and down his calf. - I will definitely sleep better after that.  
No force on Eora could make godlike to let go of bedsheets that he has grabbed.  
-You mean... I can...  
She nodded, grinning wide.  
With a cry man closed Duskspeaker under him. At least once his necrosis was at some use – captain's injuries wasn't touched. Vatnir nibbled at her stitched earlobe as his hands went down to the still present smallclothes.  
-You tickle – she giggled. Godlike took down the material, spotting a wet glisten of her clef.  
Smiling, he has quickly thrown on the floor his cloths, then started to rub rest of the lotion from ankles up her legs. Pillow had been put under her belly, so massaging junction between thighs and buttocks in a way, that his thumbs were just outside lambia, was even more satisfying.  
-You take your time – Brenice murmured. Strong pressure on buttcheeks made her sight.  
-Impatient, já? - Godlike snickered, while looking for right entrance angle and covering tip of his member in her juices the same time.  
Heat and pleasure enveloped him, as he found his way inside.  
Truly, she have Magran's fire in her.  
Aside of occasional cough the ride was delectably smooth, even if he has known, that it would be not long. Too much teasing, too much thirst for this wreck that carried his soul. That' s why he went for fast, aggressive route – if he couldn't satisfy Watcher, at least he could attempt to wear her down.  
Sweat went down his neck, soaking bandages. It was harder and harder for him to keep pace. He was almost grateful, when he spotted Duskspeaker slipping her hand under herself.  
Just before he lost track of his existence, glamfellen had kissed her with all the force he could muster at the time – if heated tangle of tongues and saliva dripping from their chins could be called kiss. The small mercy made his entire body shiver. He caught Brenice's hair while wailing in her mouth from slowly passing experience. First thing he noticed after calming down was quizzical look in her dark eyes. 

Brenice pouted, but priest was unyielding. She was wrapped in bedsheets like fish meat in mari crudia, shooting him angry looks.  
\- No laying on the back, já? - In rare fit of courage godlike booped women's nose. Burst of man laughter at face she made quickly changed in wet cough.


	3. Cove

 

Island was tiny thing, like many scattered trough Deadfire Archipelago – big enough to have some sweet water and even sweeter fruits on it, but too small to any other use than a short stop in journey. Ideal place for repairs after slaver's attack last day.

Vatnir sighted. Too much sunlight still could cover his skin in sores, so he had hidden in shallow cave next to the beach, where crew of The Defiant has worked.

-Planning any mischief? - Familiar voice surprised him. He twisted around like a fish caught on a hook. Laughter came from the water, from which Watcher stared at him, as usual squinting her eyes a little.

-Are you still in pain? - This time she was more serious.

-Have been worse – priest touched sling with his healthy hand.

He got this injury in the same battle, which made them stop here. Duskspeaker was bringing her fury upon enemy on his own desk, when some overzealous slave decided to instead try his luck with horned man aiding her with spells.

-As much fun it was to crash through those frozen idiots – she continued – next time consider also your own survival. Except for a dragon. We all agreed on being equally fucked by a dragon.

Harbinger looked down bit ashamed. He had thought, that was the end of their chat, when he heard her leaving the water. And here she was – dark-haired, with sly smile and only wet, loose Dyrwood shirt on her. It took him a few heartbeats to remind himself of his own name.

But Herald did not moved toward him. Instead, she was looking at him intensely with darkened eyes.

She was waiting for his agreement.

_Oh gods._

Being what he was, he could not reassure her by smile like any other kith. Instead, he tenderly touched her wrist, then took Brenice's hand into his working one. Warrior's posture got more relaxed. She smiled and intertwined her fingers with his.

Duskspeaker led him to the laying rock, on which she sat with her legs parted. Glamfellen was guided to sit between them with his back against women. He cautiously put his head on her arm, so he would not harm her with horns. 

Even clad in his robes godlike was visibly smaller and more lithe than his partner, not to mention fits of cough. When she put her muscled arms around him, he felt like layer of armor against whole world was bestow upon him.

And that was the key. If it had been only curiosity for exotic rarity, it would end after their first time. But she relished in the contrast between them as much as much as he did. Natlan, dissident with so much blood on her hands, found contempt in being a giver and protector for someone weak and fragile like himself.

During this thoughts she have stuck her face into his hair, tingling his scalp with warm breaths. Later her lips wandered to the pale neck, kissing the skin around the bandages. Then she brought him back to reality trough biting the tip of his ear. Godlike inhaled sharply and caught her tight.

He tried to turn around or reach her, but both the sling and their position made that impossible. Watcher have visible fun while looking at his efforts. She have caught his lower jaw and kissed him hard, as her second hand moved between his legs. Glamfellen's hips bucked, when it found its destination.

Not caring for saliva, that started to drip from between his teeth, Vatnir started to tug his robe behind belt, while she massaged his member through material.

-Impatient? - She chuckled darkly, mirroring their last encounter.

Priest attempted to shoot her an angry look, but feeling of strong grip around his scrotum was more pressing matter. Women helped him with robe and pulling down the pants, feat with just one working arm.

When at last he was free from the clothes, he hooked his legs over hers, even more playing on his vulnerability when displayed like that for world to see. Duskspeaker's both hands wandered toward his exposed groin.

The faint scent of blood reached him – he scratched her leg harder, than he thought he would be able to. Vanir has almost jumped in place, when he acknowledged that.

-Sorry! I'm sorry!

Brenice seemed unfliched. Instead of scolding him, she took his hand covered in dots of blood closer to her lips. Because of his recent surge of fear godlike was unable to fully appreciate the gesture, when she started to lap his fingers clean. _I want her to lick her juices from them,_ he though.

Moans, whines, uncontrolled jerks. One of Watchers hands was moving up and down on his member in almost painful, slow pace. Second wandered lower and lower with trails of sweat.

-Interesting – women raised her eyebrow. - Most men get nervous, when I reach for their precious butthole. - She moved her mouth closer to his earlobe. - Have you some... experience, High Harbinger?

\- I... I did... Sometimes – confession slipped from his lips with a strained sight.

_He has bitten down on the furs, so there would be no screams, both from pain or pleasure. With knuckles white from strain, he endured – at last needed as someone else than Rymrgand's chosen. _

Herald chuckled darkly, embracing him tighter. It took a moment, before he had understood, that she have started to stand up.

-Wait! Don't leave! - Vatnir caught women forearm with almost hysterical tone in his voice and tears in his too many eyes. Women laughed again – and in his ears it was now cruel, not seductive.

And then she kneeled before the godlike, between his shaking legs, and touched his face. Her warm smile made her look younger, more innocent despite all the scars.

Brenice caressed glamfellen's skin and mask plate alike until he had calmed down. It took him some time, before that has happened. When at least his breath was even again, he licked affectionately her wrist.

Her hands slided down his neck, ghosted over stylized auroch's head and landed on priest's tights. He started to suspect the upcoming turn of events.

Because of their height difference Brenice had to move around to find the most comfortable angle for herself. While she was shifting, Harbinger nervously considered the state of his poor excuse of the body. If he had known about their eventual intimate encounter, he would at least jump into seawater for symbolic wash. Now smell of sweat joined his usual repugnant aura. He thanked all 11 gods for at least not being affected by any visible infections or leaks. When she moved her tongue along his member words became once again to hard to remember.

For more sophisticated of kith Duskspeaker's technique would be considered at least as clumsy one. Basing on his own experiences with more fanatical Harbingers looking for more personal „blessings” he would have to agree with this opinion.

But how many of those with more talent in theirs tongues and lips have spoken on weekly basis with gods? Which of them have played such prominent role in games of power? Who other hunted for god? Truly, the only thing, of which she could be sincerely accused, is taste in her partners, of what he was a prominent example.

Vatnir moved strain of hair from warrior's face and tucked it behind her ear. Still with full mouth she looked up and smiled. Long, deliberated twirl of tongue made him suck the air in trough clenched teeth and scoot closer.

The feeling of upcoming closure made his legs involuntary tighten on women's moving head, keeping her close and not allowing her to leave. Without ever stopping, Brenice caught firmly his tights and spread them apart. Whole this time her eyes was locked with his.

Every lover before her was just shadow of the shadow.

Duskspeaker put her head on over godlike's knee. He licked his thumb and cleared with it the corner of her lips before they embraced each other.

 


	4. After storm

Vatnir had vomited out his dignity on the third day of storm. Thanks to that he could crawl on all fours between overflowing bucket and the driest place under the deck without any shame.

-Vatnir, tempest is over. It's gone – he heard around fifth day, while he was trying to integrate with floorboards.

In a haze from dizziness Harbinger noticed, that there was only one person on The Defiant knowing not to pat him on the arm or touch his shoulderblades. Stomped dignity has reared its head, only to be killed off again, when Duskspeaker picked him up in one fluid move. She treated him in the same fashion like one of her cats she hoarded.

-Don't even try to tell me, that you gonna stay in this wet rags. I'm not gonna let you get even worse than usual – warrior ended the discussion before it had even started.

Natlan put him down in her quarters. Godlike slumped on chair like boneless ragdoll. When he looked up, he spotted Watcher talking to Haema.

-Get yourself in order and lay down. Your things are problem for later. I'm going now to look up the damages – came rapid fire of orders from the captain. She then left the room with energetic bounce in her step. Soon after that cook came back with tub, that she started to fill up with warm water.

Priest sighted and started to fight with his robes. Brenice was right – they were so soaked, that taking them down was similar to flaying yourself.

 

He was woken up by the pain from rupturing sores. Vatnir tried to move to the side, but weight on his chest and slightly bleeding arm immobilized him. It took few moments before man realized, that heavy sack on him was indeed sleeping Watcher.

She hadn't even take down her high waxed boots, but she apparently remembered to not just throw herself on the mattress. Instead she crawled on the sheets and, considering pool of still fresh saliva, originally put her head upon his sternum before she started to move in her sleep. 

Godlike looked in direction of portholes. It seemed that at least five or six hours have passed since he had fallen asleep. Whole that time Brenice was fulfilling her captain's duty, as usual with hardly any break, exhaustion or hesitation never showing up in her voice.

Priest touched cheek of sleeping women. His fingers traced her jaw and neck, finding still present scab between throat and arm. He did this to her – during their caresses in cove, with tip of his lowest horn. She just laughed it off, but priest still shuddered on the thought, that he could even  break through the artery by accident. It made him lessen his shows of affection towards Duskspeaker and she was visibly on the brink of questioning his motives lately. 

Glamfellen sighted. There was no chance of getting away without waking warrior up. Harbinger lightly put his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes.

 

In the morning another wave of pain had woken him up, as captain rubbed her face into his arm, yawing. Her dark eyes were still unfocused and sleepy.

-Morning – she said and yawned again. She idly touched skin around priest's mask.

-Everything alright? I, uh, mean, with ship?

-She won't sink – Natlan put her head on his sternum – but I think that visit to Neketaka's shipyard would be in place.

Priest traced contour of women's face with his fingertips, thinking. Heart of Deadfire Archipelago was known for colorful individuals filling it to the brim, yet enthusiasm on his arrival was doubtful. He licked Brenice's forehead in his own version of smootch.

-That's nice – she purred. - Do it more.

Encouraged, Vatnir moved with his tongue and gentle nipping down toward her cheeks and ears. He was almost able to feel her veins pumping blood faster and faster.

Duskspeaker's clothes were stiff from sweat and seawater. The shirt went off her like a leather armor, and breastband could be broken in half like thin plank. He was assaulting her collarbones after removing those garments for quiet some time while she was still trying to get off one of her boots.

Warrior had almost thrown godlike from the bed, when she managed to free her foot with victorious roar. Brenice caught him by the arm before he had hit the floor.

-Maybe we will skip the second one and get the pants out of way, yeah? - She jokingly teased his member through material with her toes. Vatnir, sliding on the floor, had coughed short and wet before he used his deepest voice of the seasoned preacher.

-No, we won't – he said. - Also you will be silent and obedient, women.

She was too stunned to voice any objection on that statement. Her eyes started to glimmer with curiosity. 

When rest of clothes was on the ground beside him, he moved Watcher's hands to grip on the headboard. Priest licked her calloused fingers, went down to her wrist, forearms dusted by sea salt, elbows. Natlan giggled, when he had reached armpits, but stopped, when she felt pale, cold fingers upon her lips.

Once again man moved south on the path of her torso, from neck, trough breasts, when he spend extra time, and muscled stomach. Duskspeaker had bent her knees on her own, when he was around waist. Godlike caught one of the legs with both of his hands and picked it up. Joints was bit bitter in overwhelming saltiness. Herald sighted more and more often. Glamfellen moved his affections to the second limb, thinking about his next move while massaging her feets.

Memory of her hive's taste kept him awake in the nights apart. He would gladly lap on it's sweetness to the heart content – preferably without pricking her tights to blood with the horns behind his jaw.

Harbinger pushed warrior's lower back,  putting her on her side. He carefully placed her higher foot on the angled part of his larger horns. Man scooted closer, while his lover slightly put her second leg around his back. 

Bigger lips of labia glistened from moist, inviting, welcoming, enticing. He had missed it. In between fits of cough into the elbow Vatnir showed his longing by licking, probing and even delicate biting.

Her clef was like bottle of ekkevit – fine ekkevit, beautiful in its shade, exquisite in its taste. Wet sounds and Brenice's moans were songs of south, their worth unparalleled. With free hand he teased her inner walls, relishing in the feeling of their closing upon his fingers. Even strained crackling of headboard could not take away his focus.

_Wait. That's not crackling._

With animal-like howl Brenice finally had broken desk in her hands, curling up while spasm of orgasm went trough her. Thanks to being on the lower level from her priest was able to dodge most of possible punches. 

When Watcher had calmed down, he moved closer to her face.

-Tsk, tsk – godlike waved his covered in fluids fingers before captain's eyes. - Glamfellen's way of helping stormridden is not something for your amusement, Duskspeaker.

The only warning was dark glimmer in her eyes, before he was picked up from floor and thrown on the mattress. Natlan had to use only one hand to immobilize both of his wrists while positioning herself upon him.

-I'm sure showing you your place – she said, taking him into her wet depths – gonna be even more amusing, High Harbinger.

Grip tightened. _There will be bruises,_ he thought – and his hips bucked involuntarily.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still fighting with myself about ending of chapter 5.  
> Thinking of complete position change in chapter 6.  
> According to AO3 "feets" is not a word...


	5. Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes callbacks to short story "Landlocked" by Paul Kirsch, free to read on http://eternity.obsidian.net/media.  
> Also this time there is no sex. The disgrace!

Everything, that could go wrong, did so.

The three-time-damned Steel Preacher has fallen, but still most of the blood on their clothes was their own. Even with all the equipment and skill victory was a miracle.Broken bones, pain, ripped skin, torn muscles, joins dislocated.

Usually he would be helping those, who were affected, alongside Tekehu. But now priest could not even see them. It was so not only because all the blood getting into his healthy eyes. Glamfellen was also too far away from all of it.

Godlike had run and run and run, trying to keep his smashed to pieces mask together with his broken fingers, the shouts behind him only incoherent noise. He had bounced of tree trunks, almost tripped few times on standing out roots before falling to his knees.

How she found him? Vatnir didn't ask. Her voice, her hand on his arm came to him like trough the thick mist. Harbinger curled up in defiance, when she tried to take down his hands – he did so again while being picked up.

 

Yes, he had a fever. Yes, there was wound, that went across his forehead. Yes, there was infection. But if he had any strength to even think coherently for few heartbeats, he still would be angry.

Some wear mask for other reasons than shame, and he was one of those people. It was sign of respect – he gave it to the onlookers, a reminder, sign from Rymrgand. Brenice, Brenice, not everyone can speak to gods face to face like you!

The water and herbs, that from time to time came to him were good, but they didn't extinguish the fire immediately. _It was nice_ , though. There was so many days in White than Wends, when he would give everything to experience it instead of cold and numbness. Just feeling of sweat all on his body was so foreign, when he laid under all this blankets. Since when he had so many of them?

Sometimes something warmer than flames touched his face, wandered on his cheeks and scalp. That warmth was accompanied by the smell of sea, cat's fur, oils used for conserving armor, a pleasant mix. It made falling asleep easier, especially when he was able to catch its source and trap it between himself and the hammock

_He was under furs, again only child, trembling._ _Valbrendhür stood next to the hearth,_ _preparing something he did not see._

_Is he leaving again? For the hunt, maybe? What, if he won't come back? Vatnir already knew, that aging elf was not his mortal father, but some part of him still believed in that – or was that only a wish of a terrified sickling._

_Even if old man repeated like everyone speeches about special vocation of the one touched by Beast of Winter, he treated him good, cared for godlike in his diseases, teached him songs and sang them with him. The tender smile never left his lips, that man deprived of the lovers by the gods._

_Stay._

_Don't leave._

_Don't leave!_

Priest reached out from the heap of warm layers to grab his mentor, teacher, friend by the shoulder. The fear had made him cough so much, that he hanged his head from the hammock and started to spit out phlegm out on the ground. The figure before him turned around while he was at that.

Brenice.

 

Wet cloth caressed his face. He had worn his mask so long, that light pressure on cheekbone made him involuntarily wince. Women immediately had stopped her action.

-I'm sorry.... For earlier. On battlefield, I mean – godlike touched her hand reassuring.

-Usually one flight during, not after the fight, so I gonna forgive you. Anyway, with that slash on your head you would have to stick fingers into the wounds to find them – she moved to the forehead while speaking. - Good, that you didn't get too far away. I was worried, that you would fall into some ravine or other thing.

Natlan threw rag away and put hand on his face before lowering her head. Their foreheads bumped softly. Glamfellen's hand landed on her opposite cheek. Watcher's breath smelled of fruits and mead.

They stay like that for few moments, deck around them full of sounds of everyday life. Brenice moved away first, straightening her back.

-Your mask is beyond repair. I must say, that flail hit was quiet impressive – she said with shade of professional admiration in her voice. Herald put finger on his mouth before he started to speak. - Crew and I had bit of group thinking about it and we came with some solution- she went to the nearest table and picked something up.

It was Lödwyn's mask. Even on its own it had aura of judgement around it.

-Of course it needs some alternations for your use. Beodul claims, that Wanika from Neketaka will get them right with your cooperation.

Not knowing what to say, Vatnir lowered himself into the blankets and capes laying on him. There was a moment of mutual silence. When he had looked up again, captain still stood in the same place. Only hands betrayed her feelings, gripping tightly on the trinket.

-I... Thank you – he reached to her once more.

Women smiled and walked up to him. Her hand gently squeezed his.

This smile alone was worth March of Shattered Bone.

When she had left him for her duties, he gazed for hours into space, surprised by his own thoughts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part about the mask and shame is callback to Vatnir's comment during Watcher's argument with Inquisitor Naxiva, when you accuse court of wearing masks (Endless Queries quest).


	6. Tikawara

He was hoping, that Duskspeaker wouldn't be angry for following her from tribe's feast on Tikawara.

Huana had been always known for their reverence for godlikes, so only last pound of selfrespect stopped them from falling to theirs knees before Tekehu. Vatnir was quiet content with being in his shadow, only few quick, concern looks here and there for Endings one.

Late in the night, when wine had changed plates into colorful blurs, he noticed captain leaving her seat beside ranga after whispering something into his ear. Priest had counted to thirty and swallowed another round for courage before following her. Surely, festivities wouldn't die out without his presence.

 

Biting on fist was needed to block the cough while he watched - Brenice was talking with young basket weaver under stone arch in faraway part of beach, who was connected to the local case of smelly, vomit-inducing fruits.

When Huana had left, Vatnir coughed off all pent-up phlegm into upcoming sea wave before turning toward Herald.

-Putting another burden on your arms, Watcher? Soon you will hunch more than I do.

-Vatnir – women sighted, massaging her temples, eyes closed. When she opened them, her gaze was so dark, that it had almost frighten him. The feeling immadiately disappeared, when Natlan tried to cover up her exhaustion with dry, weak smirk. - Before I could blame the lack of sleep for wrong decisions. Now I'm not so lucky with excuses.

-Ah, Duskspeaker – he clicked his tongue. - You blame yourself too much.

Cold, sickly pale hands covered the ones with skin like brass. She closed her eyes again, so similar to one of her cats. Godlike kept his fingertips on Brenice's face, relaxing muscle after muscle with slow, circular motions. When he had reached cheekbones, women threw her arms lazily around him.

Lacy cravat of rather frilly shirt tickled man's throat. For something looted from dead fool it fitted her perfectly, adding a flare to her beauty. Feeling of her breast pressed up against him made him stumble in his movements – but if her deepening breath was any indicator, the blood had started to pump quicker in her too. It seemed that the smell of beach was working in his favor.

Shy, tender bite on her lower lip could had been invitation or just singular caress, if she would not be interested. Her tongue teasing his uncovered gums was very clear answer for that question.

-Let me. Gonna be quicker – women whispered, sending shivers down his spine. She stepped back from him, winking, when she started to unbutton her garment.

Grateful, priest focused on shedding those layers of clothing, which would be the most in the way. Strong tug on his horn soon took him closer to his lover.

-Wouldn't be angry if you had started with seventh one – glamfellen joked, before heated kisses and teasing movement of Watcher's hips made him dizzy.

Brenice turned around and put her hands on the cliff's wall. This way they could keep most of clothes on and quickly scatter in case of being found. Fluids dripping down Duskspeaker's thigh called to him as strong as the Winter itself. He answered eagerly.

 

Some time into their mutual pleasure, slightly bleeding after accidental bumping their heads together, Vatnir had put his forehead against the rocks to cough out phlegm, when he spotted the light.

At first, while still fighting with his own body, he took the luminescence for something coming from local seaweed or fishes. His triple eyes, teary from sweat and pollen in the air, didn't help. But after collecting himself he noticed unusual height of its source and strange, pale blue hue.

In first reflex godlike covered Brenice with his arms, tightly embracing her. He was opening his mouth for warning, when he was stunned by sight of her face.

First time for weeks there was no worry on it. Hunt for god, Principi sen Patrena, The Defiant, archmages, gods and monsters – everything, everything was gone, didn't exist in this moment. Brenice was purified of all of it, free, if even for few heartbeats.

And that would be taken away from her because some spoiled brat? _Nonsense._

But more cover would be still in place. Vatnir put his hand between Duskspeaker's shoulderblades and applied a little bit of pressure.

-On your knees, astin min – godlike whispered into women's ear. When she obliged, he covered most of her lower body with his still worn robe and stretched himself on the plane of her back. Priest put his arm around Natlan's breasts and pushed her even more to the ground. He assaulted her neck with licks and nips, savoring the taste of sweat.

Brenice reached behind and managed to grab one of his horn. Her sly smile, when she turned her face, made glamfellen bite insides of his cheeks to keep his pace. Feeling the clenching muscles, he rolled his hips up, connecting them even more. Sliding in and out, harbinger closed all his eyes and moved, moved, moved, focusing on shivers and meowing of mess of the person under him. Mess, that for just one moment would not have to think about gods trotting through kith lives like toddler through fresh snow.

Watcher started to mumble more and more in high-pitched Ixamitl. Her womb clenched like a fist around sword's grip. Man's skin was covered in so much sweat, that his mask was on brink of sliding down. He howled in effort, exhausted and happy.

This time her pleasure was almost lady-like, less aggressive and violent than usual. Her back arched like that of tigress, shaking. He put his both hands on her hips, almost completely sheathed in her.

During that one heartbeat, when he had bitten her into arm from the pleasure and before his knees let go, he thought: _Let this be my last memory before I disappear into the Void._

 

Vatnir wrapped Brenice in one of their cloaks before parting from her to ungracefully crawl toward the waterline because of his resurfacing maladies. When he was coming back to her (aside of the bite she cut her hand on the horn), he looked in direction of the suspicious glow. His eyes met only darkness.

 


	7. Finality

End was indeed near.

The Wheel will be stopped. Soon after that life on Eora will end.

Of course "soon" meant few generations, but as an elf he could be still alive, when the signs come up.

Vatnir took a deep breath. Brenice could have mocked him for lack of faith at Harbinger's Watch, when she had found him in his secret room, but he never doubted in ultimate Winter's Call – of each individual and for whole world.

At least he had seen a part of it. And there was her.

Brenice stood on ship's deck with her face toward lowering sun. From where he was standing, warrior appeared to be creature of light, fire and shadow.

For inexperienced eye Natlan looked like personification of calm. Priest knew better than that. Godlike almost heard skin breaking on tensed muscles, felt pain from clenched teeth. Sleepless nights and hurting back would soon follow.

He walked up beside her, their hands touching on the gunwale. They stood there together in silence as the sun was sinking into the sea.

 

-We are going to Dunnage. The bird was from Consuaglo mes Casitas. They have Aeldys.

Brenice wasn't looking at him, when she said that. The missive in question laid on the table before her. The candlelight danced in the rhythm of women's breathing.

Vatnir moved closer to her and tenderly put his hand on her back. That was first words she had spoken to him since yesterday.

-We need Fonferrus. The Defiant is no match for Ondra's Mortar.

Second pale hand touched her.

-Everything for Ukaizo. Fist-fucked Ukaizo, the prettiest whore in this brothel known as Deadfire.

He put his forehead between her shoulderblades, still silent.

-I had always taken responsibility, but now everyone depend on my words. Everyone. Whole Eora.

Harbinger had stopped to wear gloves around Watcher some time ago, so while embracing her he could feel single, angry tear landing on his hands.

 

When he had released her from his arms, Duskspeaker turned around toward him and caught him by the elbow. Without a word she pointed to bed with her head. Godlike swallowed and nodded, still unsure, what was her real need – delving in carnality or simply having someone around.

His heart sank, when he saw the way she approached the bed. Instead of theatrically throwing herself between the sheets, Brenice slowly crawled on the mattress and laid down with her back to rest of the room.

Finding position to be as close to her as possible with those damn horns was quite a feat. For some time Vatnir had just let her be and digest her thoughts, trying not to disturb silence of cabin with his cough. But then the second hour had started, and her breath still was uneven and muscles tensed to the point of breaking.

He had to try.

Glamfellen reached out and touched her back again. Marred with scars, skin dry and cold. He waited a while for any sign of displeasure before moving his hand along the spine.

The caress, kept as pure as possible, let him notice the thigness of breastband. Cloth dug in the flesh, almost injuring it.

Vatnir took few deep breaths (accompanied by cough attack) to steady himself. He moved his hand to her cheek.

-Dusk... Brenice – priest corrected himself. - I know you're awake. If you stay curled like that, you will be in pain in the morning. At least straight up, please. It will help.

At first he considered himself promptly ignored. But after a moment she started to uncoil herself from her initial position. Shifting to accommodate her, Harbinger noticed visible strain in Natlan's movements. 

That sight added more to his worries. With his arm he slightly coerced warrior to put her head above his heart. When she did, Vatnir started to pet her hair and neck with slow, tender strokes.He prayed in his mind to be successful in his attempt to anchor her in the reality, to this exact moment in time, at least for one heartbeat.

The passage of time had blurred. Brenice's eyes stayed fixed on empty place in space. When he saw that, he had almost lost his hope. In his last effort, he took again deep breath and started to sing. 

At first it was only quiet chanting, that could be mistaken for coming from ship's deck. With time and despair glamfellen's voice raised up. Lullabies, religious hymns, march songs, lovers callings – in all he poured his worry, fear, care for her. Hand on her hair moved up and down with regularity of Vallian clock, even when first pain, then numbness set in.

 

When he licked her cheek as a final good-night kiss, he could swear that was Ondra kissing him back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sex again? The nerve!


	8. Ukaizo

After punishing haza nui for getting in their way only one step before the end remain.

End, end, end. Lullaby for Rymrgand.

-Do you think she will wake up if I kiss her? - Vatnir managed to jest, while keeping unconscious Brenice in his arms from the moment he woke up himself next to the machine.

And there she was, in her shining armor, stoic, graceful, true hero of this story, going down the stairs to the hunted god and her destiny.

Brenice turned around on the staircase leading to the lower part of lost – and now found anew – Ukaizo.

-Are you coming? - She said, reaching for him.

-With you? Always – Vatnir smiled, taking her hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope You were entertained.

**Author's Note:**

> To keep the theme of disfigurement, horns and disease I was think about giving Vatnir Peyronie's disease. But unlike Rymrgand, I'm merciful.


End file.
